Albion High School - Chevron Yearbook (Albion, NY)

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Oil! T H E C H E V R 0 N l l O THE DUCHESS OF FERRARA It was a balmy morning in sunny Italy during the most picturesque period of all time, the Italian Renaissance. As one walked along the main highway in the little village of Ferrara, one would be attracted by a beautiful white stone mansion, with tall, peaked roofs and a round white tower in the back- ground. Wide, spacious lawns, bordered by beautiful, stately trees surrounded the mansion. In the center of the lawn at the left stood a fountain of white marble from which the water rose many feet in the air and fell in crystal-like drops upon the ground. In another part of the lawn stood a single huge tree of a rare specimen bearing exquisite white flowers of unknown variety. Behind the mansion was a deer park, whose shade seemed at once cool and inviting. This was the home of the Duke of Ferrara and his wife, the beautiful Lady Lorentia, Duchess of Ferrara. On this particularly beautiful morning, they were riding through the park. They made a charming picture: the Duke in his riding habit, his handsome tanned face, dark wavy hair and dark brown eyes, sitting in his saddle with the ease of one long accustomed to riding: the Duchess, a perfect picture of loveliness, with her pure, white complexion and curly brown hair, her white riding habit seeming one with the white mare she rode. They were conversing in low tones, and the Duke was saying: My dear, how can we best entertain our guest, Count Rudolphe, during his brief stay here? You know best, for you are a better judge in such matters than I. Lady Lorentia smiled and a faint blush came into her cheek. The Duke laughed softly, for he realized that it was his compliment that had brought that blush and that smile. I know of no better way than to give a ball in his honor and invite our friends from the neighboring duchies, she answered after deliberating for a few moments. A good idea! We'll make the necessary preparations as soon as we return to the house. But hush! Here is the Count. No word of it to him. The Count rode toward them as he finished speaking. He had left the mansion, seeking the shade of the cool woods, not suspecting that the Duke and Duchess had gone there before him. He nodded to them in greeting, and plucking a rose from a rose-tree nearby, he offered it to the Duchess. She took the flower and again there came that faint blush in her cheek. This did not escape her husband's notice. He felt annoyed that a trifle from a stranger should affect his wife as much as a compliment from himself had done. Still, he said nothing, but decided hereafter to watch more closely. On the ride back to the mansion he saw with increasing annoyance the unnecessary attention that Lady Lorentia paid to the Count. More than once he saw that blush steal over her face. Still he kept his peace. l D ll g Ill ik ll U The hour for the ball arrived. The guests had all assembled. The huge ballroom was brilliantly illuminated with thousands of candles. The music was irrestible and soon the ball-room was crowded with dancers. But, as the even- ing advanced, the Duke became more and more irritated by the attitude of the Duchess toward the Count. Many were the smiles and whispered words that passed between them. And many, too, were the looks of warning and reproach that the Duke conveyed in his glances to his wife. And yet she pretended not fContinued on Page 221 Page Nineteen

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Ol !llZl l THE CHEVRON ! l 0 toward the door. Well, so long, boys, see you later! Amid the vociferous utterances and condolences of his friends, our martyr betook himself to the out-of-doors and thence homeward. He was still gloomy, although somewhat lighter in spirit since he had laid his burden upon his friends' awed and sympathetic ears. As he neared the front walk of his home, he quickened his steps somewhat, for maybe there had been a last minute telephone call that she could not come. But, alas, when he entered, he saw his mother's face at the living-room window with the same placid, pleased look which it had worn when he had first im- parted to her the information that he was taking a lonely, new little girl to the party. How could she be so pleased when she must know that the mere thought of that old maid bored and sickened him to the limit! Well, mothers were certainly funny. Oh Alan, dear, she called, as he was divesting himself of his coat in the hall, I just had a telephone call from that Mrs. lvers, the mother of the sweet little girl whom you are taking tonight. Her mother had such a nice voice, I'm sure Susan must belong to a quiet respectable family. Respectable to grass! Her daughter's probably too respectable for this day and age, muttered Alan to himself, as he proceeded to climb the stairs to his room. What was that, Alan? inquired Mrs. Baird. I just said that it was nice that she belonged to a respectable family, came from the top of the staircase. As he was changing his clothes, Alan thought over the prospects for the evening and felt depressed in his innermost soul. He knew he'd have to dance almost every dance with her, because none of those fellows he'd met on the way home would give him any dances. Well, he was in for it, anyway. He de- cided to prolong his dinner as much as possible so that there should be less time for getting acquainted with the Ivers. Goodness knows, he hadn't the least desire to become acquainted with 'em. if wk 1 ll ll C l When Alan and his partner entered the gayly lighted gymnasium that night, every eye was focused upon them. First, there was an audible gasp of astonish- ment, and then- the boys moved as one man to be presented to this bewitching creature with the curly blond locks and the laughing dark eyes. VVhere had she dropped from, and where was the old maid lvers? But what was Alan saying as he introduced his chum, Jack? Miss lvers, may I present Jack Carrol? And then, No, Sandy, the dances are all taken. I'm sorry but you can't have even one. I wouldn't give any of mine to anyone! From then on the evening and the crowd belonged to Sue Ivers. She held the boys, at least, in the hollow of her small hand. Introductions were sought, even besought, dances were cut in upon, and wherever Sue's exquisite yellow lace frock was to be seen, its wearer was surrounded by a bevy of dark-coated youthsg not in the least of whom was Alan, who was perfectly able to main- tain the privileges due an escort. But the triumph of the evening for Alan was the conversation in the boys' cloak-room just before the dance broke up. Sandy, Jack and Bill gathered around him and demanded in one voice. Say, Al, you knew all the time what she was really like, didn't you? You just tried to kid us, you know you did! Oh, what joy to be able to smile knowingly and walk away! -Evelyn Hamilton. Page Eighteen

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Cb? Cb DIOH VOL. XXXIV ALBION, N. Y. JUNE, 1930 Editor-in-Chief M. Hamilton Assistant Editor A. J. Eaton Literary Editors A. Di Valerio D. Weeks W. Monacelli G. Trivisondoli Business Manager W. Wheeler School Reporters D. Small H. Bartlett H. Harding K. Long R. Mason W. Payne Art B. Spry G. Hamilton E.Bemnan C. Karns W. Lattin B. Pittman D. Beach J. Page M. Maginn C. Taylor Advertisements J. Finn B. Stockton G. Butler N. Zarbo J. Hamlin R. Woodruff Faculty Miss Ball Page Twenty CHEVRON STAFF Subscriptions W. Wheeler B. Mansfield J. Van Denberg L. D'Orazio A. Vick G. Forman M. Daum Photographic C. Soharping Alumni L. VVhite C. Taylor Typists F. Clark E. Munson M. Moore Exchanges T. Brunetti E. Hamilton La nguage M. Strickland G. Covell Jokes R. Carr M. Snyder H. Crowther H. Keitel Athletics Mr. Bahn Library Miss Achilles M. Snyder